


My Jimi Can't Possibly Be This Shippable!

by unmeme_urdreams



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aphrodisiacs, Desk Sex, Drunk Sex, Episode 109 Canon Divergence, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Object Penetration, One Shot Collection, Sex Pollen, Two Years Later Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unmeme_urdreams/pseuds/unmeme_urdreams
Summary: A shameless(?) oneshot collection for various Yamazaki pairings. (Individual chapter tags/warnings/summaries are inside)





	1. (YamaShin) When An Old Friend Gains a Weird Mole in the Span of Two Years, Abandon Hope of Normal Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fic title is a parody of the infamous 'My Little Sister Can't Possibly Be This Cute!' light novel, for anyone who didn't know.
> 
> I started this collection back in early 2018 when I was first watching Gintama and accidentally stumbled into the Rare Fave Multishipping Hellhole after looking everywhere for Yamazaki content (the original inspiration for this was actually a fanart on Pixiv I can't find anymore of a bunch of Yamazaki ships in one picture and the words 'Scandal with everyone!'). I decided to try to buckle down and write a oneshot for all my new ships to get it out of my system, but because I'm lazy, I took this long to finish it. I know-- how could I dare disobey the ZakiFucker Agenda (sole membership: me)? I don't know, but I'm ashamed. So take all of this Zaki-fucking as my apology.
> 
> The goal was to write roughly 1k for each, but most went over in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Added note:** This one won't make a lot of sense if you haven't watched the Two Years Later Arc around Episode 200. Some characters' personalities change.
> 
>  **Pairing:** Jimmy!Yamazaki/Shinpachi (And minor hints of Bakaiser!Okita/Hijikata)
> 
>  **Warnings:** Dubcon / **Tags:** Fluff, Light Angst, Aphrodisiacs, Two Years Later Arc
> 
>  **Notes:** This is some kind of Two Years Later Arc AU where nobody is really an alien wart I promise, and Shinpachi stayed as a prisoner because reasons (Hijikata ended up as some kind of Chaotic Neutral here...)
> 
> I really wanted to try writing YamaShin in this setting since I wrote regular-setting already, but I have a soft spot for this AU in general! (I didn't write out that 'an' speech quirk because it would get annoying, but it's there... in my imagination)

It was just going from working for one weird-ass, high-maintenance boss to another.

On paper, yes, Shinpachi was supposed to be a hostage. In practice, however, he was more of a maid, which was another thing that hadn't changed from working at the Yorozuya.

Even if everything else had changed after two years, that was the one thing that hadn't, and even if it annoyed him, the familiarity was at least comforting, so he put up with it. Instead of doing the laundry and cleaning up mountain-sized dog shit he was just dusting that tacky throne room and taking Oki- er, the Bakaiser's cape to the dry-cleaner's, usually accompanied everywhere by that overzealous anpan addict to make sure he couldn't run away.

At first he'd been intimidated by the sudden transformation in the newly-appointed 'Demon Vice Commander', being ordered around on pain of bazooka explosion and/or threat of glasses breakage ('Tape them back together and JK R*wling'll sue your ass for all it's worth!'). But it didn't take long for Shinpachi to learn that when it came to Yamazaki-san, waving around an anpan was usually all it took to stop any attempted wrath on his part (he'd taken to carrying them around on his person, which was a harder task than it sounded, since that bastard was good at sniffing them out.)

That skill alone, however, wasn't enough to stop him from making Shinpachi's life at the Shinsengumi more difficult nonetheless — only maybe not in the way he thought it would.

"Wake up already, Yamazaki-san," Shinpachi would grumble every day at six in the morning after entering the bedroom and finding Yamazaki fast asleep in his usual position, sprawled out on top of his futon with a puddle of drool by his mouth, clinging to a gigantic round anpan pillow. The first time Shinpachi had found himself in this situation, Yamazaki wouldn't wake up no matter how hard he tried. He'd pulled the blankets away, he'd slapped his face, he'd blasted a hole in the wall... But nothing worked.

Shinpachi was about to give up until Hijikata had cheerily (creepily) walked in and showed him how it was done: he dropped a bag holding an anpan onto Yamazaki's sleeping face and he shot up awake in a second, clawing open the contents and tearing it apart with his teeth like a rabid wolf.

...And that was how Shinpachi soon found himself in a daily routine of doing the same, his oft-repeated warning of "Yamazaki-san, if you eat too many of those you're going to get sick" falling on deaf ears as usual as he tried not to watch his Vice-Commander's (wait, was he actually thinking of him as that now?) embarrassing behaviour too closely, knowing all too well what would eventually come.

Phase One of the so-called 'Anpan Fever', as everyone termed it, was when it seemed Yamazaki-san would finally snap and start throwing anpan everywhere, leaving no surface and no face unscratched. That was at least until he inevitably got Okita-san or his obnoxiously huge self-portrait somewhere in the crossfire and earned a trip to the S*dist D*ngeon. (And Shinpachi and Hijikata were left in charge of cleaning off the mess and crazed scribbles from the walls, of course)

Afterwards came Phase Two, when, having more or less calmed down, Yamazaki-san would usually end up in bed with an _actual_ fever, and Shinpachi could only scold him in vain.

Like now, for example.

"You've got a fever. I told you this would happen! Eating too much of one thing isn't good for your health, Yamazaki-san."

"Shut up! Are you my mother?!" Yamazaki scrunched his face up as Shinpachi placed an ice pack on his forehead. "And I told you, I'm fine! I couldn't be better! Don't I look like the picture of hea—" A sneeze cut Yamazaki off and he sniffed and grabbed a tissue to blow his nose.

“I don't remember raising a good-for-nothing punk like you! And no: you're sick, and you need to rest!" Shinpachi pulled the blanket further over Yamazaki's body. "Don't try to push yourself or it'll just make it worse. Here, I made some soup. You need to eat properly if you want to get better."

"I don't need it!"

"Don't be stubborn. You're not going to get better if you don't eat properly!"

"You wouldn't be a four-eyes if you knew how to eat properly!"

Shinpachi finally lost his patience, a vein popping on his forehead. "I made it for you out of the misguided kindness of my own heart, so you'd better eat it! Need the plane to crash-land in your mouth, asshole?!"

Grumbling to himself, Yamazaki finally stopped complaining and reluctantly started eating the soup. "...This stuff isn't bad, I guess."

"I'm glad.” Shinpachi slumped, relaxing again. “I'm used to making things like this, since I had to take care of Aneue whenever she was ill."

Shinpachi couldn't help but remember how after his sister tried to make soup for him when he got sick, he made sure he didn't get a single illness again. _Aneue... I miss her._ He was still sore over how she kicked him out of the house...

Once the soup was finished and Yamazaki was lying down again, Shinpachi got up, sighing his usual sigh of resignation to the fact that this chain of events would eventually repeat all over again. "Now, get plenty of rest, OK?"

But this time Yamazaki-san spoke up before he could leave: "...Oi, Megane, th—"

Yamazaki quickly cut himself off as he realised what he was saying, eyes widening, and clamped a hand over his mouth.

Shinpachi blinked. "Yes?"

There was a pause for a while, Yamazaki looking away from him, his face overheated under his hand.

"T-Thanks." The word was so muffled from the hand covering Yamazaki's mouth that Shinpachi barely heard it.

But still, he heard it.

That was the first time Yamazaki had thanked him for doing this. Shinpachi couldn't help but smile despite himself. "Maybe you haven't changed that much after all, Yamazaki-san,” he replied, almost teasingly, ignoring the instant response of _'S-Shut up!'_ hitting his back as he turned to open the door and leave. 

All in all, dealing with this new life of his could sure be exhausting... But somehow, Shinpachi had managed to put up with it.

 _Had_ , anyway. Lately, for some reason or another, sometime after that last Anpan Fever incident Yamazaki-san had started being harsher on him than usual. He was actually going _easier_ on Hijikata and was sending Shinpachi on errands instead. He'd blast his bazooka at him at the drop of a pin, and go out of his way to make his life harder in any way possible.

Shinpachi would catch Yamazaki-san staring at him for no reason, soon receiving a snap of "The hell you looking at, Megane?!" and a smack on the head. Yamazaki would go all red before turning away, then-guaranteed to be in a nasty mood for the rest of the day.

He cornered Shinpachi in the hallway one time, slamming his hand onto the wall beside him and leaning in too close, making Shinpachi scrunch his nose at the scent of cigarette smoke. "Oi, Megane. You didn't get what I asked for? I'll blow out your lenses, bastard."

 _Ah, crap..._ Shinpachi had forgotten one of his errands again. "I-I didn't mean to. I just forgot."

Yamazaki narrowed his eyes and pushed his face in even closer, their noses almost touching, and Shinpachi felt his face go hot as he recoiled. A hand roughly grabbed his jacket and started groping around, patting it down. "What's that?" Yamazaki sniffed, finding one of Shinpachi's backup supply anpan in one of the pockets and squeezing it. "You've got one there. Hand it over."

"Not if you ask me like that!" Shinpachi huffed to himself. If he handed it over he wouldn't be prepared for emergencies... But it seemed like he'd have to anyway.

"I said hand it over!"

As Yamazaki tried to forcefully grab the innocent snack, Shinpachi managed to block in time and grab his hand before it could reach its target. "I'm not giving you anything with that kind of attitude!"

To Shinpachi's surprise, however, as soon as their hands touched Yamazaki not only stopped in his tracks, but went as red as a tomato once he realised what was happening and yelped, quickly snatching his hand away.

"...Huh? Yamazaki-san, is something wrong? Your face is—"

But rage shadowed over Yamazaki's expression again. "That's it, Megane. I've had enough of your crap!"  
  


* * *

   
The S*dist D*ngeon was, as its name suggested, a D*ngeon of S*dism. Recently built underneath the newly-renovated Shinsengumi Headquarters, it was filled top to bottom with all means of torture devices, constant sounds of whips cracking, and ladies in leather outfits whose job it was to crack said whips. Meant not only for suspects and criminals imprisoned by the Shinsengumi, it also served as punishment for any of its own members who had been acting out.

Or, in this case, who had refused to hand an anpan over to the Demon Vice-Commander.

Huh?! Wasn't there something wrong with that sentence? But Okita-san—er, the Bakaiser wouldn't hear it when Shinpachi tried to protest what was happening as they dragged him away, simply grinning at him like the evil bastard he was when he was thrown inside the dungeon for the 'fun' to begin.

 _How could this situation possibly get any worse...?_ Shinpachi should have realised he'd only be tempting fate as he wondered those words after they hung him up and left him to rot.

"Hello, Shinpachi-kun." Hijikata smiled sunnily, hanging half-naked on the rack beside him.

"AAAAAH!" Shinpachi screamed. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!!"  
  


* * *

  
 "I see Yamazaki's taken a liking to you now," Okita commented some time later when he came down seemingly to check on Hijikata (well, to hang him upside down and watch for his own amusement), turning to Shinpachi and sitting down with one leg over the other, resting his feet on Hijikata's head (Who didn't lose his cheerful expression for a second, even as his face started to go blue.)

"The hell do you mean by that, you Bakaiser?!" Shinpachi snapped back.

Okita waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, it's amusing. You've become his new favourite punching bag, even more than Hijikata." he punctuated the name with a stomp. "Congratulations."

"It's not 'congratulations'—" Shinpachi returned, but trailed off as Okita got up and crouched down right beside Hijikata's head, grabbing a fistful of his hair and putting his lips by his ear, whispering something to him. Small reddish marks that Shinpachi had assumed to just be more bruises on Hijikata's bare chest and neck suddenly stood out to him as he looked over him again, but there wasn't any time to think on it as Okita rose to his feet and started walking to the exit. "W-Wait, don't go! Don't leave me here with _him!_ Oiii!"  
  


* * *

 _  
Yamazaki-san sure has been acting strangely for some reason, though. What did I even do to piss him off?_ Shinpachi later wondered as he left the convenience store on his usual errand. He was exhausted, grumpy and irritated after twenty-four hours of being left in that dungeon next to an all-too-positive Hijikata, and his ass-cheeks still kinda stung as well. _What the hell is his problem?_ Carrying the bag of anpan in one hand, he stepped outside, the sky darkening, the weather miserable and—ah, damn it, it was starting to rain. He'd forgotten to bring an umbrella.

_All I did was stop him from grabbing my spare anpan. Why did that make him so angry? He just suddenly decided to freak out._

Shinpachi sighed, shivering as the wind hit him and cold raindrops started battering his head, blotting the lenses of his glasses. _Yamazaki-san wasn't that kind of person before. I get that power changes people, but I always thought he was a good person... Well, but everyone else has changed for the worst, too... Even Gin-san and Kagura-chan are too busy to come for me or anything like that... Even Aneue, who sent me here..._

Shinpachi ignored the trembling in his chest until the tears started rolling down his cheeks on their own, biting down on his lip to try and stop it. _Just like I thought, I really am alone now... Everyone I thought I could rely on... They're all gone—_

_Bump!_

Shinpachi hit something while looking at the ground and almost fell back. "S-Sorry," he quickly apologized, only to see the black and gold uniform of the person standing in front of him as he looked up, eyes widening.

Yamazaki wasted no time snatching the anpan from his hand. "Kept me waiting long enough, didn't you, bastard? Surprised you didn't try to run again."

Shinpachi didn't say anything, just glaring out of the corner of his eye and biting down on the inside of his cheek to stifle his anger.

"Huh? What's your problem?"

 _What's_ your _problem?!_ Shinpachi wanted to shout back, but instead he turned his head and started walking back, the other giving him a look as he quickly joined.

"It's pissing it down. Forgot an umbrella, huh?"

Shinpachi was about to nod, only to suddenly jump at a sharp tug on the back of his jacket collar as Yamazaki swiped it off his back and held it up above his own head. "Too bad, then. I'm not getting wet."

He was about to yell out for the other to return it but only shivered at the cold wind and the rain bucketing down on his shoulders. Shinpachi wrapped his arms around himself to try and keep warm, hunching down and looking at the ground. He was trembling again, his lips were twitching and his eyes were stinging. He'd been crying only minutes earlier and now it was coming back, that feeling of hopelessness and loneliness—

Huh? The rain stopped. Shinpachi blinked and looked up to see an arm above him holding his jacket, Yamazaki standing close enough for both of them to comfortably fit underneath.

"T-There. Now I don't have to hear you whine about it," Yamazaki mumbled with his head turned away from him, face red. Confused, Shinpachi felt his own face heat up as well. What was this? Tsundere? Was this new Yamazaki just a tsundere-type all along?! Or... Was there maybe still something of his old self left?

"What are you looking at me like that for, Megane? Gonna complain about being cold next? Just take this and s-shut up," Yamazaki pulled off his own jacket and tossed it onto Shinpachi's shoulders. He sounded nervous... And he was—he was blushing, wasn't he?

 _'I see Yamazaki's taken a liking to you now.'_ Okita's comment replayed in Shinpachi's mind as they continued walking side-by-side, Yamazaki munching on his anpan next to him.

A small smile made its way onto Shinpachi's face. _It smells like smoke,_ he thought as he pulled the jacket closer around him and his body began to regain its warmth. "Your jacket smells like cigarettes, Yamazaki-san. It's a bad habit, you know."

Yamazaki didn't reply, but flicked the cigarette out of his mouth and onto the ground.  
  


* * *

   
“It's true that you don't know what his feelings are towards you, but that doesn't change the fact that you still have a chance, does it? You've got to be positive, Jimi-san.'”

Hijikata sat beside an extremely nervous and flustered Yamazaki who was trying and failing to smoke a cigarette with how hard his hand was shaking, both of them crouched in front of a wall behind the Shinsengumi barracks like a couple of kids sharing secrets or or trading Pokemon cards together after school.

“Don't fuck with me!” Yamazaki smacked Hijikata on the head, his face tomato-red. "How am I supposed to say something, huh?! There's no way I can say anything! I'll die! I-I'll probably explode on the spot! Aaaah _I'dbesoembarrassed!_ "

"There, there, don't worry." Hijikata attempted to pat his companion's shoulder, still continuing to smile as always as he received a surprised shriek and a nasty twist to the wrist for his efforts, "If you're too shy to—"

"I'm _NOT_ shy!" Yamazaki snapped, the pitch of his voice practically a squeak. He grabbed Hijikata by the ear and slammed him to the ground, shoving his cigarette into his forehead - of course, still with no reaction from him. "I'm just bad with words! So there's no way I can just go up to him and say it, got it?!"

"If you don't say anything, then he can't respond to your feelings in the first place."

"Your FACE can't respond to my feelings in the first place!!'

Hijikata slowly sat back up, flicking the ashes off his forehead. It was a good thing Yamazaki was as clueless as he was, because otherwise he might have noticed something malicious quirking at the edge of his ever-present smile.

"Perhaps if you properly composed your feelings into a letter, you'd find it easier. And if you're still nervous, you can keep it anonymous and he won't even know it was you. How about it?"  
  


* * *

  
Shinpachi held up the envelope in front of Yamazaki with one hand. "Did you write this, Yamazaki-san?"

Yamazaki's stomach did a flip, tied a knot, and sunk into his balls.

"W-What? What makes you think it was me?!"

"Because in the part after where it says ' _Please accept my feelings. I really really like you and,_ ' the ' _an_ ' becomes an entire wall of ' _Anpan_ ' that continues for the next paragraph. Didn't you proofread this?"

"Y-You can't prove it!"

Shinpachi pointed over at his right hand. "There's ink on your fingers, Yamazaki-san."

"Doesn't mean I was writing _that,_ does it, huh?"

"Isn't this the kind of thing middle-school students do, anyway?"

Doing his best to loom over him with their single-inch and a bit height difference, Yamazaki cornered Shinpachi and slammed an arm into the wall beside his head. "Shut up! You fuss over everything too much, Megane. It pisses me off. If you're going to reject me, don't fuck around! N-Not that it was me in the first place, of course!"

Shinpachi sighed. "Look, Yamazaki-san, you're doing this all wrong."

"...Huh?"

Shinpachi took a deep breath, his eyes falling shut for a brief moment, the calm before the storm until they snapped open again violently as he yelled, "Do you think a total nerd like me who's never received a confession in my life will accept this?! This isn't a game, dammit! I'll kick your ass on behalf of all virgins if you think you can half-ass it! Don't _kabedon_ me like the primary love interest in a shoujo manga and then wuss out like the secondary one! I thought you were tired of your place in the supporting cast, huh?! Even if it's a guy, if you're gonna pull something like this then at least have the decency to get a 'Kyaa!' out of me, _bastard!!_ ”

Yamazaki stared in stunned silence and disbelief.

" _That's_ your problem?!"

Exhaling and turning back to the very picture of calmness, Shinpachi nodded firmly. "Exactly. If you want a proper rejection, then there has to be a proper confession. OK, now, follow standard form. Please stand back and try again properly this time." He took hold of Yamazaki's arm and started to pull it into position despite his protesting.

“I-I'm telling you, I wasn't confessing in the first place...”

Shinpachi didn't twitch. “Then please do your best to humour me, Yamazaki-san.”

With an annoyed _tch_ , Yamazaki took a step back before slamming both his hands on either side of the wall beside Shinpachi's head.

There was an awkward pause. Yamazaki, still holding his pose, started sweating nervously.

"...Hmm.” Shinpachi adjusted his glasses with a thoughtful look. What, was he recording his data, huh? Was he that kind of megane character now? “That was a bit better, but maybe I didn't react much because I was ready for it."

Burning up with embarrassment, Yamazaki pulled away. "Oh, so that wasn't enough like a shoujo manga for you, bastard?! Why would you know so much about shoujo manga anyway, huh?!"

"A-Aneue had a lot of it lying around, OK?! And I'm saying-" Yamazaki's hand grabbed his uniform scarf and their faces drew close- " _Gyaah!!_ "

"Huh. Close enough to a 'Kyaa'.” Yamazaki smirked at the now clearly blushing face of Shinpachi in front of him and leaned in even further. “This good enough for you now, Megane—"

"Oh, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Okita stood there with an icy look on his face, Hijikata on all fours beside him on a leash.

Shinpachi flailed. "O-Okita-san?! A-Ah, this is, t-this isn't, a-ah—"  
  


* * *

   
"My, how unsightly, doing something like that in public. Whether it's a confession or a rejection, it's something that should be kept between the two of you... Don't you think?" Okita leered at them from behind the bars of the cell he'd dumped them into. “If your feelings are so burning that you can't contain them, then perhaps it's best _you_ be contained...”

Imparting a smirk on them before turning around, Okita walked away, kicking Hijikata to make him keep up.

"W-Wait! Okita-san!" Shinpachi called out, but it was too late— Okita-san had left, and now he was _literally_ stuck with that anpan-obsessed jerk.

That jerk— who he was smushed with face-to-face, their bodies bound together almost too tight to breathe by the thick rope around their middles.

"Oiiiii!" Shinpachi yelled as loud as he could down the hallway." Get back here so I can kick your ass, you Bakai—ow!!" His ranting was cut short by a sharp headbutt to the forehead.

"Get outta my face, four-eyes, I just felt your spit!"

"Huuuh? Weren't you just trying to get IN my face?" Shinpachi squirmed awkwardly, trying to move his head back, but it was no good. "That's... That's why that sadist did this!"

As much as he wanted to cling to excuses at this point, the shade of red on Yamazaki's face made his guilt obvious. "S-Shut up! You really think Demon Vice-Commander, _Jimi Yamazaki_ would write something sappy like—"

"Still using that excuse?! I bet you're over the moon right now, you pervert!"

Arguing and struggling, they soon toppled over from their sitting position, taking turns rolling and bashing the other into the cell wall.

"Y-You're the pervert!” Yamazaki snapped back. “Don't think I didn't catch you making Hijikata sneak those porn mags into your holding cell! What was it, ' _Onee-plus'_?"

"Shut uuuuup!" Shinpachi went bright red, rolling himself on top and slamming Yamazaki's head repeatedly into the floor. "S-Shut up already! We need to try and get out of this!"

"I don't—“ Slam! “ _Ow!_ See you trying to get out of this! You're just beating the crap out of me!"

"That's because I'd rather not be stuck with you here at all, bastard! I'd even take Hijikata-san over you, and that's like comparing cat poop to dog poop!"

Yamazaki wrestled control back long enough to roll himself on top and started slamming Shinpachi in revenge. "Oh, I get it! So that's why you want me to quit smoking, huh? should I cut my bangs into a V-shape and start grinning like a dipshit too?! That's barely a step removed from how I used to be! I'd rather slash my guts out than go back to that!"

"Of course I'd want that! For Yamazaki-san—” Slam! “ _Ow—_ To go back to being the normal—” Slam! “ _Ow—_ Yamazaki-san I remember! Tsunderes aren't even my type, asshole!”

Yamazaki stopped for a second, his face going pink, but snapped out of it and cut back, "Oh, that's right! You prefer big sisters, huh?”

" _Dieeee!_ "

Shinpachi had already rolled back on top and was ready to get back at the other again but froze halfway, blinking, noticing Yamazaki was... panting, suddenly, flushed darker than earlier.

“What's... with that weird look?" Shinpachi scrunched his face in disgust. "Don't tell me you really _are_ getting off on...”

“N-No! That's not it, idiot! It's just... I don't know, suddenly I feel weird...” Yamazaki twisted, squirming, “I feel all... warm...”

Before Shinpachi could retort he froze again. It felt like a stab of heat had surged into him through a pinhole in his body, racing through his veins at breakneck speed. As the burning spread he gasped and dropped his head, feeling his forehead dampen with sweat.

“Y...You too?”

In the blink of an eye he was overheating—Shinpachi could barely even focus enough to form a reply, lowering his eyes, his breath hitching— "I-It's... hot." The space between them was tightening as he shifted in discomfort, his whole body was straining— "What's... happening?"

"That... That sadist." Yamazaki swallowed. "Before he threw us in here, I felt... something prick me, like a needle... He uses weird drugs on prisoners sometimes... I-It must have been some kind of—M-Megane, what are you—?!"

Shinpachi jerked his hips suddenly and almost yelped at the electric jolt of relief the friction sent through him, gone only after a moment. Good—that felt good—

"A-Are you listening?! Ah, W-What are you—!" Shinpachi thrashed again, "A, Ah...! Stop that! That won't get us out of—"

 _Too tight. It hurts._ “Ah... This f-feels better—” 

His head was melting. Shinpachi couldn't stop himself; he moved again and whined, his clothes drenched with sweat, their shared heat only packed between them pressed together like this, it was unbearable—

“W-Wait... don't... N-no, stop,” Yamazaki started struggling, trying to shift his body's position but it only made it worse, encouraging Shinpachi to return the movement until they were both gasping, “quit that already or—!”

Shinpachi couldn't register the panicked protests buzzing in his ears even if he wanted to, he couldn't think, only keep moving, "Hurts...to stop... F-Feels too... Ah! Ya...mazaki _saaa_..."

"S-Stop it... already... A-Ah! Stop or I-I'll—I-I'll— _s-stop, Shinpachi-ku—_ "

Through his daze he barely noticed when Yamazaki suddenly cried out and his frantic rambling stopped; Shinpachi's whole body jolted, his own voice suddenly ringing in his ears as his muscles lost their strength and went slack—

He felt their bodies curling into each other, hot breaths brushing his neck as Yamazaki made a sound somewhere between a sob and a groan into his shoulder, the heat in his face reaching the tips of his ears. Even more embarrassing whimpers were coming from Shinpachi's mouth as the aftershocks ran through him; his face planted his into the ground opposite the other's.

For a while there was nothing but panting, neither moving a muscle, until the heat cleared from their heads. Slowly, they both turned to face each other.

There were no words, only the world's most awkward stare-down. For maybe a few seconds, anyway... Until both blank expressions finally scrunched in horror.

"GIVE IT BAAAACK! GIVE ME BACK MY INNOCENCE, YAMAZAKI-SAAAAN!"

"HUUUH? WHO WERE YOU SAVING IT FOR, MEGANE, YOUR LEFT HAND?!"

"SAYS THE GUY WHO WENT FASTER THAN A W*RIO WARE MINIGAME!"

"YOU BLEW IT AT THE SAME TIME, VIRGIN!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING VIRGIN?! TAKE RESPONSIBILITY, YOU BASTARD! TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!"

They quickly tired out from all the arguing, still panting beside each other with their heads on each other's shoulders, pants uncomfortably sticky.

"Now, then. The hostage won't be compromising you anymore, will he, Yamazaki?" Okita had returned, crouched down behind the other side of the bars wearing a sadistic grin so witheringly gleeful his eyes were almost crescent-shaped slits.

"...Y-Yes," Yamazaki barely managed to get out, almost a squeak, face burning red with shame and something else he tried his best to ignore squeezing painfully in his chest.

Shinpachi was hiding his expression as he looked at him, turning his head away.

 _That idiot,_ he thought, his own chest squeezing in return.


	2. (OkiYama) There's No Safeword in a Battle of Wits With Your Sadistic Coworker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Okita/Yamazaki
> 
>  **Warnings:** Dubcon / **Tags:** Okita being A Sadist, Desk Sex, Light Bondage, Coercion
> 
>  **Notes:** I don't think Sougo's ever tied up someone in canon (that's more Gintoki's thing) but for some reason when I wrote this I thought I remembered him doing it. Oh well. The alternate title for this fic is 'Yamazaki needs to sue for workplace sexual harrassment'

How exactly it had started, he had no idea.

Maybe it was when the Vice-Commander caught him playing badminton during practice again and, rather than running off to beat him into a pulp, since he was occupied, ordered Okita to do something about it instead. Sadistic glee lit up his red eyes as he turned to look at Yamazaki, who immediately gulped. Fearing his wrath far more than Hijikata's, he prepared to run for it, but somehow that trigger-happy First Captain was behind him in a flash, locking his arms behind his back, and before he knew it he was tied up and suspended from a nearby tree with his racket shoved into his mouth by the handle.

"That should do it, Hijikata-san," Okita had announced in his usual lazy drawl while dusting off his hands. But there was something in his eyes, an almost predatory look that sent a shiver down Yamazaki's spine before Hijikata yelled at him to get back and he complied, sending Yamazaki another glance as he turned and walked away. That was probably the start— when he should have realised it was time to take an early retirement.

Or maybe it was the many repeated times afterwards when Okita would _insist_ on rushing over before Hijikata could finish barking the order, that same gleefully twisted look on his face that told Yamazaki it was already too late to run—not that he didn't try, but that bastard seemed to possess ninja-like teleportation abilities of some kind, because Yamazaki would find himself tied up once again before he could barely even blink. And maybe he had, or maybe he hadn't just imagined the hint of breath on his face when his Taichou leaned in just a little too close for comfort as he teasingly reprimanded him, his hands lingering just a little too long in places they shouldn't as he dutifully tightened the ropes just a little more than they needed to be—

But either way, it was enough to quickly make Yamazaki curb his habit and stop playing badminton during practice. Or during patrols. Or whenever he wasn't supposed to in general, which meant any day that wasn't free. He even stopped tenderly stroking his beloved racket before he went to bed at night! Now there couldn't be any reason for Okita-taichou to keep tormenting him, right?

Despite having been in the Shinsengumi as long as he had, Yamazaki reflected far too late what he should've realised from the very start: when that sadist truly had you in his sights, he wasn't about to let up any time soon.

He'd stumbled on Okita-taichou being his usual lazy self, lying down on the floor pretending to snore with his eye mask on, and had foolishly let his guard down.

"The Vice-Commander won't be happy if he catches you," Yamazaki had warned him: Today, Hijikata had ordered everyone available in the Shinsengumi barracks to go buy out the whole stock of some kind of new special limited edition mayonnaise bottles, and right now it was his job to go around and make sure no one was shirking 'duty'. But of course, Okita just hummed lazily in response, not bothering to move from his spot.

Before he could think he yelped as the other tripped him up and he fell down face first, preparing to hit his head but instead landing flat onto Okita's lap, his legs straddling him on either side.

"T-Taichou! What are you—" Yamazaki stuttered, struggling but locked in place as Okita held him down and pulled out his uniform scarf with his free hand, tightening it around his wrists, "—Ah, w-what are you doing?!"

"Huh? You don't get it?" Okita replied with a feigned clueless look on his face, now holding Yamazaki's hips down with both his hands, amused by his flustered expression. "It's an alibi. An alibi."

"What kind of alibi is this?!"

"Look," Okita pointed to an empty mayonnaise bottle in his pocket. "I squeezed all of this into the trash earlier. If Hijikata-san or anyone else walks in, we'll just say that when you suddenly tripped and fell on it, the mayo stuck us both together, so we can't do any errands. See? This way, we both get out of it. It's the obvious solution."

"More like obvious sexual harrassment! And besides that, he'd just kill you for wasting the mayo! That stuff is precious to him!"

"Right. And that's where Phase B comes in, of course. Luckily, I'm here to help out." Yamazaki didn't realise his belt was open until Okita-taichou's hand was already in his pants, wrapped dangerously around the last thing any man wanted at the mercy of the Prince of Planet Sadist. "We've got to bring Hijikata-san some mayo, right? Let's do our best."

"That's not it at alllll!" Yamazaki struggled and tried to pull away but Okita held him down, gripping him even tighter, and he yelped. "You really are a pervert! L-Let me go!"

"You shouldn't be slacking on the job, Yamazaki," his protests went ignored as one hand changed its course, sliding up his shirt and teasing his chest while the other jerked him off, "If we disobey direct orders, it'll be seppuku, won't it? That means me too, you know."

"H- _Hii-!_ T-Taichou, don't!"

"And besides..." Red eyes flicked downwards and lit up in amusement. "Aren't _you_ the pervert? It was hard before I even touched you," Okita grinned, leaning in close to Yamazaki's ear, " _just like all those times I tied you up._ "

"T-That, t-that's not, I-I didn't—!"

"What, you thought I wouldn't notice?" Okita punctuated his words with a squeeze and he winced, "So, how long were you waiting for me to do something like this? Zaki."

"I-I wasn't-!" Yamazaki was forced to shift his weight to his knees, his head almost dropping to the floor as Okita pulled him forward until his chest was in reach of his tongue, "N-Nn, s-stop, i-if Hi-Hijikata-s- _san_ comes and sees— _nh!_ "

"What's that? If you said something about Hijikata _that bastard go die_ just now, I sure didn't hear it.'

"S-Stop! Okita-taichou, I-I'm... Ah, i-if you don't stop, I'll...!"

"Huuuh...? I thought I already told you, Zaki. The fate of both our balls rests solely on yours. Well-meaning mothers buy the store brand and their kids might get mad, but at the end of the day they have to eat it. Alright, let's deliver it now—Hijikata-san's offbrand mayo—"

" _Ah_ _—_ _!!_ "

As he panted against Okita's shoulder, the hand left his pants and another came up, stroking through his hair. Ah, wait. That _was_ the other hand, right? _Right...?_

Yamazaki soon felt himself rolled off onto the floor, blinking back to reality only to catch a glimpse of Okita-san's sadistic expression before he pulled his mask out of his pocket and slid it over his eyes, blocking his vision—then yelped as something tightened around his legs.

"Hu...Huh?" Yamazaki squirmed in panic, stuck lying there still exposed with the scarf binding his arms and Okita's jacket around his legs. "Okita-san?!"

"See you, Zaki."

Footsteps sounded and faded out out of the room.

"OKITA-SAAAN?!"

He'd find himself backed into a corner in the hallways when no one was around, suddenly pushed into a wall with Okita's smaller frame pressing up against him from behind, teeth tugging at his ear, hands pulling down his belt and shoving into his pants.

 _'Stop',_ _'What are you doing', 'N-Not here, someone will—'_ each of Yamazaki's panicked cries would go ignored as he tried and failed not to arch into Okita's touches, only just managing to steady himself on the wall with his hands as he doubled over, whining embarrassingly. ' _Taichou', 'p-please, Taichou',_ he'd be forced to beg as the other teased him and drew out his building release until the height of his desperation, when finally—

_'Fine, fine, I'll let you come now.'_

His knees would almost give in as he came with a muffled gasp, only able to try and fail not to cry out any more while Okita drew him out through every second of it.

That sadist would jump him anywhere and everywhere; on missions, during a convenience store run, in the baths, in their squad car in the middle of a patrol, under the table when he was peacefully enjoying his lunch—

It really didn't take an oracle or a dubious TV psychic to guess where this would eventually end up.

But, being the kind of person who didn't see the obvious coming, whether it was Conan culprits, a decreased popularity rank, or telegraphed plot twists in video games and action movies, Yamazaki somehow still had it in his good-natured heart to be surprised when where it ended up turned out to be that same sadist fucking him into Hijikata's desk after jumping him in the middle of paperwork and an over-long meeting break that the latter was currently absent for and the former was probably skipping out on, as he tried and failed to re-evaluate the life choices that led to this point when his head was coherent enough to string two or more thoughts together.

Amazingly, it finally cooperated with his mouth long enough to produce a coherent string of syllables that wasn't passable for an audio file straight out of an eroge.

'T-Taichou," Yamazaki gasped and tried his best to look over his shoulder, panic clearing his head again, "this really isn't a good idea—'

"Of course not.", Okita drawled in reply, not slowing his pace for a second, "it's a great one."

"Maybe in your mind, you s- _aahh_ , s-sadistic pervert, but—"

"You're too noisy, Zaki." Paperwork scattered off the desk as he yanked black hair, hitting deep and making his subordinate's high-pitched voice ring out again, "Aren't you worried someone could hear you? These walls are paper-thin, y'know. Literally."

"B-but you just—"

"Just what? It's not my fault you always make sounds like this when I fuck you here—"

" _Aaah—!!_ "

"See? Just like that."

"O-Okita-taichou..."

"You're imagining it, right?" Okita's flat tone came by his ear, "The look on his face if he saw you like this."

"T-that's—"

"Disgusted, right? He'd call you disgusting, right?"

"What? But i-isn't it obvious that _you're_ the one who—"

"Look, it's fine, it's fine. I know he won't be back for a while. By now, I know that asshole's schedule down to the millisecond. _A_ _–_ _h_ , mentioning that Mayora was a bad idea. My dick's going soft."

"But," The hint of a grin hid itself on Yamazaki's face, "you wouldn't be doing this here if you weren't getting off on— _mnff..._!"

“Hu—uh, what's that?”

Okita was quick to prove the versatility of his uniform scarf yet again as he bunched it up and shoved it into his mouth.

"Hey, this is a pretty good idea. I should've done it from the start, since you can't shut up," he continued too quickly, slamming into Yamazaki harder until the gag barely muffled his cries and his fingers were clawing the desk, "Oh, that's a good idea, Zaki. Just like that— it's high-quality wood, Hijikata-san will be angry if you scratch it permanently. Hey, are you listening? Really dig your fingernails in there. He'll be— _hahh_ , he'll be so... so..."

All in all, Yamazaki may not have known when exactly this had started, but what worried him more was whether or not there'd be an end—

At least before Hijikata cottoned on, anyway.  
  


* * *

  
The next morning, Hijikata had an urgent announcement to make before practice.

"Which one of you worthless asswipes j*zzed on my fucking desk?! I'll cut your balls off!"


	3. (GinYama) Whether You're a Sorry Old Man or a Lovelorn Office Lady, Bargain Bin Ice Cream is Enough to Comfort Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Gintoki/Yamazaki
> 
>  **Tags:** Drunk Sex, Casual Sex
> 
>  **Notes:** This was written before I found out about Sorachi confirming Yamazaki's apparent Monster Dong and I was too lazy to change anything. (My one dick headcanon, ever, and it was jossed... trust Gintama)
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this one! Gin-san really is shippable with everyone... (Note: Bonus Chapter 3.5 comes after this one)

"Oi, Jimi-kun."

“Oh... It's you, Danna.”

Gintoki had (somehow) noticed the Shinsengumi's favourite punching-bag sitting there already with a drink as he entered the bar, looking down on his luck about something. He tended to look like that, to be fair, but this time he looked downright miserable— or maybe it was just easy to tell a fellow reject from society when Gin himself was part of the club.

He'd decided to take a seat next to the familiar Jimi and strike up a conversation as he ordered a drink of his own; it wasn't like he had anything better to do, right? The sadist in him couldn't help but feel the allure of potential torment just seeing that face, anyhow.

"Didn't think I'd see you here. What's wrong? That Mayora giving you trouble again?" Gintoki leaned over and grinned. "Got your hair shaved into a mullet?"

Yamazaki instantly backed away as if just by being near him something horrible would happen to his hair again, blanching, but Gintoki only laughed and slapped a hand on his back. "Just your luck, Jimi-kuuuun!" he continued, downing his drink and slamming it on the counter. "Gin-san had the worst day imaginable, so who knows, I might need to blow off some steam."

Yamazaki's eye twitched. "Oh? You think your day was bad, huh? What do you know, you natural perm? Did you accidentally wear the wrong sleeve on your outfit and get a visit from the suits at Jump?"

"Huuuuh?" Gintoki leered. "What would you know about protecting your image, you merchandiseless Jimi? Still mad you're not on any covers? What could've possibly happened; Anp*nman kill your family?!"

"Oh, you wanna go there? You do _not_ wanna go there. And you have no idea what I've been through!"

"Yeah, I'm going there! The hell was with that weird postcard—"

"—So first, Hijikata-fukuchou broke my badminton racket after I _just_ bought a brand-new one, even after sacrificing a drop of my own blood and my entire TeniPuri DVD collection to Ryoma-kun to keep it from harm! And then, when I..."

Yamazaki's story continued on endlessly as he got caught up in explaining everything, until finally he noticed Gintoki was sitting there picking his nose, ignoring him the whole time. "Hey, you weren't even listening to a single word I said!"

"It's alright, it's alright." Gintoki patted his back. "It doesn't matter what happened to you, Jimi-kun—that's what the alcohol is for."

Yamazaki faced him with an angry pout. "OK, fine, but don't expect me to listen to you if you decide to—"

"—So today completely sucked. That annoying dog took a dump on my laundry after I didn't feed the furry bastard and then he got into my strawberry milk, ate my JUMP, ate the rent money and _then_ the robot maid busted the doors in and I got kicked out of the house! And then, when I..."

Gintoki turned to Yamazaki to find him busy downing his second drink and looking away from him. "Oi! You're ignoring me!"

"It's fine, it's fine, Danna. It doesn't matter what happened to you, right? You'll forget it once you drink enough, right?"

"Haah, I get why Oogushi-kun likes beating the snot out of you. Maybe I'll have a go."

"Oh, nobody listens to me, anyway! I didn't e-expect you to be any different, Danna..." Yamazaki sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. It only made sense he'd be one of those pitiful drunks.

"Oi, oi. You're crying now. You look like a puppy someone kicked. Even Gin-san can't kick you."

"Waaah!" Yamazaki collapsed onto Gintoki's shoulder and clung to his arm. "I don't care if you don't listen! You know what, I've had a bad week, too! And a bad month! I've had it bad from the start of my life! I just need to get it all out..."

Well, for better or for worse, Gintoki wasn't going anywhere. "Whine all you want, then. Gin-san's arm will listen. Just don't blow your nose on my sleeve."

Somewhere along the line, maybe after hitting a new tier of drunkenness, Yamazaki forgot about complaining and they were soon laughing together over who knows what without a care in the world. Gin's head was sure getting dizzy, now; he somehow didn't even feel like picking on the guy any more, tax-robber or not – right now he was happier watching him laugh; that dorky smile of his was kinda cute—

Huh? Huuuh? _Cute?_ Since when was Jimi-kun cute? Did he really think that just now?

No, no, no, there was no way he did. Gintoki had just imagined it.

But that Jimi was still smiling and laughing stupidly like that, his face red from all the booze — strawberry-coloured, looked nice—

"D-Danna?" Yamazaki yelped in confusion as Gintoki's tongue dragged across his cheek. Huh? It didn't taste as good as it looked, damn it, Jimi-kun; but now that clueless look on his face was making Gin want to devour him whole—

"Mph—!" Yamazaki whined, muffled as Gintoki covered his mouth with his own, tasting the drink he'd been having seconds earlier as he yanked him closer by the collar and deepened the kiss.

 _It's been a while since I did something like this, when did I last...?_ People were giving them looks now and he couldn't care less, people were yelling things and he still couldn't care less—

Naturally, until they got kicked out.

It was a miracle they didn't drop to the floor the second they made it through the dingy hotel room door, instead managing to maneuver their way to the bed — well, no, trip by accident and land on the bed, all the while shoving their tongues into each other's mouths.

Gintoki landed on his back with a soft thump, groaning in irritation as his fingers fumbled with the other's sash. It didn't take long for various articles of clothing to fly away to places unknown around the room.

"Hah, are we really doing this...? Danna," Yamazaki panted.

Gintoki hummed vaguely in response and then slipped further underneath him; Yamazaki felt hands pulling his erection out of his underwear and shuddered as a tongue joined them, steadying himself on his forearms.

"Huh. Jimi-kun's Jimi is a Jimi, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Yamazaki sat up with a start, glaring down at Gintoki's face between his legs. He turned to the side and looked behind him, tugging down the other's own obnoxious strawberry boxers. "Huh, your natural perm goes all the way down to here, too! And it's grey, just like an old man's!"

"Oi! You want me to suck you off or not?! And I'm not old yet! I can still get it up without Vi*gra, damn it!"

"Fine, fine. I won't underestimate Danna's Danna." Yamazaki was about to turn back around but Gintoki held down his hips from behind with a mischievous grin.

"While you're there, you might as well apologize to it. Yorozuya Gin-chan doesn't work for free, y'know."

"...Roleplaying? Are you roleplaying now, you weirdo?"

"Ehehe, sorry, Jimi-kun, if your wallet is closed I guess there's only one other way you can pay me-"

"Seriously! Is that your secret wank fantasy, huh? A cheesy porno setup like that? Listen, if you want me to suck your dick, just say you want me to suck your dick, damn it."

"OK, OK. Get down there and grab my Master Sword, Jimi-kun."

"' _Suck my dick'_! That's all you need to say!"

"Then how will you save Hyrule?!"

"Gahhh, I give up!"

 _Ah, Jimi-kun isn't bad at this._ He was quivering underneath Gintoki's fingers, letting out little whimpers around him as he sucked. Wanting to make him lose it, Gin returned the favour, taking him in completely and watching in amusement as he cried out, thrusting himself deeper into his mouth without thinking.

"A-Ah, Danna..." Yamazaki couldn't stop himself from repeatedly fucking Gintoki's mouth; Gin could feel him tensing, trembling, shaking. _Cute_ , he thought, _It feels good, doesn't it? Gin-san's actually pretty good at this too, so you're in luck—_

But it didn't take long for him to gag at a particularly sharp thrust as it hit the back of his throat and he quickly stopped what he was doing, pushing Yamazaki off of him.

"...Time out for a sec! Time out!" Gintoki sat up, flushed at the awkwardness of the situation. He looked around. “Huh? Oi, Jimi-kun, where'd you go?”

“...Down here,” came Yamazaki's annoyed voice from the floor where he landed after being accidentally shoved off the bed.

Gintoki peered over the side of the bed and blinked. “Oh.”

“You're not going to help me up?!”  
  


* * *

  
A little while later, amazingly, after some more tipsy spit-swapping, they were going at it again, and he was lowering Yamazaki onto him, watching his cheeks flush and his eyes squeeze shut in concentration.

(Gintoki had carried that spare condom in his otherwise-empty wallet on the extremely unlikely off-chance he'd hook up with a _girl_ after a night of drinking, but, well, it seemed when horny enough he'd take what he could get. Jimis included, apparently.)

"So, just how long were you holding onto that thing, anyway?"

"Shut up! It never hurts to be prepared!"

"There's plenty of free ones here, though."

"Listen. Just like shitters, showers and video game controllers, it always feels better to use your own!"

"Well, any longer and it'd probably start gathering dust—Ah!"

Gintoki smirked at the reaction from Yamazaki as he thrust his hips up without warning. "That spot, huh?"

"N-Nnh, again—"

“Hmm, I dunno,” Right on cue, his sadistic edge was waking up— ”Gin-san's not feeling too generous right now. Maybe if you ask him _extra_ nicel—”

“ _Please,_ Danna.”

Hell if Gin's dick didn't jump at that.

“Huh, so quick—”

“Don't just keep teasing me..." Yamazaki frowned above him. "I want to feel good, too. So, please...”

That sneaky bastard, the kicked puppy look had to be on purpose this time. Wasn't this guy some kind of spy? Had he been taking research notes from Souichiro-kun's _S Magazine_? That kind of information was dangerous!

“Oh?” Gintoki's lazy grin widened. “You're almost _too_ obedient, Jimi-kun.” But he was more than eager to start moving again, hitting the spot he found that made the other cry out and squirm on top of him, "Y'know, this feels even better than I remembered. You're squeezing me so tightly when I do this," and _again_ , holding Yamazaki's slender hips down with a grip he knew would bruise later— "Hah, dunno if I can..."

"Nnn... Me too, Danna... I'm almost— Ah, don't stop—!"

They didn't last much longer. Jimi-kun looked good enough sucking him off before but he looked even better riding Gintoki's dick as he came, a sight erotic enough to make him forget who was riding his dick to begin with.

So 'always the unassuming ones' was true after all, huh—that, or it was the alcohol still, but Gintoki couldn't care less right now if he tried, bonelessly exhausted in his post-fuck haze. He only just had it in him to pull out and toss the used condom into the trash before slumping into the pillow with a drawn-out sigh.

Afterwards, equally tired out, Yamazaki dropped down and buried himself in Gintoki's neck. He was about to lean in for a final kiss only to find the perm-head snoring loudly underneath him.

"Who's not an old man," Yamazaki murmured to himself before he dropped off beside him.  
  


* * *

   
It was just a one-nighter, they'd happily agreed. A casual hookup that would soon be forgotten—after all, there wasn't really anything between them.

Besides, it would be a bad idea if something like that got out— Gintoki had a reputation to uphold, damn it, he couldn't be caught fucking around with a nobody like Jimi-kun of all people! Yes, yes, just a one-time thing, over and done with; fun while it lasted, but he'd definitely moved on.

Yep.

That was why he'd gone up behind that Jimi when he caught him out on duty and grabbed his ass while his accompanying superiors were distracted, leaving him looking over his shoulder with a furious blush on his face as Gintoki slipped away, smirking to himself.

Just a one time thing. That was why barely a week later he'd ended up yanking him into an alleyway to play tonsil hockey one night while walking home drunk off his ass yet again, fully intending to drag him to the nearest love hotel again for Round 2; if Gintoki hadn't soon doubled over in a corner to puke his guts out.

The above event may or may not have taken place again, differentiated by varying levels of X-rated content, several more times within the following weeks.

Okay, okay, so that was enough already, right? He'd stop playing around with Jimi-kun _eventually._

...That day, however, was not today.

Yamazaki was currently sitting in the seat across from him at his favourite family restaurant, hands folded in his lap with a sheepish look as Gintoki enjoyed a parfait. Okay, so Gin-san _may_ have found himself broke as usual when he'd strolled over to the place, driven by his usual sugar craving, and he _may_ have just so happened to have spotted a certain familiar Jimi walking along with a pleased look on his face as he admired his most recent pay-check. (A bonus! He'd actually received a bonus! From what? Who knew, but he _got_ one!) So naturally Gintoki, smooth as ever, immediately broke down onto his knees in front of him and begged to borrow the money.

In the end Yamazaki had decided to spare himself the fuss and just buy the parfait for him, out of the seemingly-infinite kindness of his Jimi heart. Or maybe because Gintoki had gnawed on his leg in public and threatened to harvest the sugar from his blood if he couldn't get his hands on a dessert.

Either way, here he was, sitting across from Gin with a faint but unmistakable blush on his face, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Huuuh? Which dating sim was this? Was this grown man suddenly a high-school girl out on a date that hadn't been confirmed as a date? The normal boring childhood friend option who no one went for?

(But even if it was plain, vanilla ice cream was still delicious.)

Gintoki looked over at the other end of the table. " _'This isn't a date or anything'_. You want to say something like that, right?"

"W-W-What? That's not it at all! Didn't you harass me into this?"

Ah, Jimi-kun was blushing even more now. "No, no, you're right. It's not a date."

Yamazaki blinked. And oh, was that disappointment he was trying to hide? "That's what I'm saying..."

In a flash Gintoki was on the other side of the table, propping the hapless Jimi onto his lap and earning a startled yelp. "Here, say 'Ah'~," he said, bringing the spoon over with one hand.

"Ah! W-What are you..." When Yamazaki opened his mouth Gin took the opportunity to pop the spoon in.

" _Now_ it's more like a date, isn't it?" Grinning, Gintoki wrapped his arms securely around the other's middle, resting his chin on his shoulder. "It's fine, it's fine, no one's looking. Too hard, anyway."

"They are! I-If someone sees..." Yamazaki shuffled off his lap and into the seat beside him, still blushing. He was about to move away a little further but hesitated—and Gin caught his hand and held it down between them, smiling at him, and he blushed even more, eyes widening.

"It was good, right? The parfait." Gintoki licked his lips, grabbing Yamazaki by the collar and tugging him in, "Here, Gin-san will give you a better taste of it—'

Nope. That day was not going to be today.  
  


* * *

   
"We were right, Hijikata-san. Yamazaki has defected."

Hijikata and Okita stood crouched side-by side in the nearby conveniently-placed bushes, zooming in with their binoculars on the pair in the restaurant window.

"Tch... I didn't want to believe it. The hell does that traitor bastard think he's doing? He's missing out on his regularly scheduled ass-kicking. I gave him Harada's bonus by mistake and he's already gone and spent it."

"Being an S like me, Danna must have been drawn to him. Unfortunately for him, Zaki is _our_ M, and ours alone. If he wants to dispute that, we'll show him the paperwork."

"Damn right! What's so great about that natural-perm-head asshole, huh? He's a deadbeat with two brats who spends all day playing pachinko! There's no way I'll acknowledge a man like that!"

“Hang on a sec, I'm lost. Are we trying to sound like jilted exes or overprotective in-laws?”  
  
“What was that, Sougo?”

"So what are our plans for attack, then? Hijikata-san." Okita pulled out his bazooka and took aim.

“O-Oi! Point that at them, not me!”

Before he could retort, Okita spotted something in the distance behind that bastard Hijikata's annoying face with his scope and squinted, looking closer. Oh? What was that? He almost hadn't noticed him from behind – a certain wimpy Megane, token boring member of the Yorozuya, walking along on the street so _conveniently_ alone...

The sadistic gears were quickly turning in his mind. "Ah. We'll fight fire with fire, Hijikata-san."


	4. 3.5 (Bonus Chapter - OkiShin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **\--This bonus chapter directly follows Chapter 3--**
> 
> **Pairing:** Okita/Shinpachi (and mentioned GinYama)
> 
>  **Warnings:** Dubcon / **Tags:** Okita Being A Sadist, Restraints, Inappropriate Use Of Justaways (I'm sorry)
> 
>  **Notes:** I couldn't not write this after the ending of the GinYama oneshot. Please forgive me, Shinpachi... Also, blame this one doujin for the Justaway thing.
> 
> The Shinsengumi regulation referenced in this chapter is #46: 'Hate the Yorozuya, but treat Shinpachi nicely.'

"It's simple, it's simple. We exchange a Jimi for a Jimi," Okita spoke into the flip phone, half-sitting on the back of a chair while the Yorozuyas' missing member, currently bound to it by his limbs all-too-suggestively, glared at him with irritation. "Return ours in one piece, and we'll return yours. Also in one piece, of course, or maybe more—depends how quick you are."

 _What? H-He's joking, right?_ Shinpachi jumped nervously at the comment despite himself.

"Are you the police or the Yakuza?!" Gin's voice yelled from the other end and at first Shinpachi's face brightened at the familiar tone—until he added, "Property theft is a crime!"

And it immediately fell again. "Oiiii!" Shinpachi shouted. "Who are you calling 'property'?! It's 'kidnapping', and it's _also_ a crime—"

Okita clamped a hand over Shinpachi's mouth and cut back into the conversation, "Hear that? Peril. They're in peril. They've had enough already—I might pop a lens out of the frame."

"Bastard! Those glasses will never be the same again! Just send them back in one of those small cases. Nobody needs to get hurt!"

Shinpachi managed to squirm his face away and yelled, "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY AT ALL, GIN-SAN!" This was bad... The only thing worse than having a sadist hold him hostage was to have another sadist negotiating the hostage!

"You heard my terms," Okita replied into the receiver. "Relinquish custody of Yamazaki to the Shinsengumi, or we don't have a deal."

"Listen, we shared _one_ parfait—"

"—And some other things, too, but that's neither here nor there, right, Danna? What I mean is you did it, of course. You did _XXX_ and _XXX_ and probably lots of _XXX_ on every possible surface. Unfortunately, our code forbids being too friendly with the Yorozuya, so you'll have to dump him, or it'll be seppuku. Vice-Commander's orders."

“Eeeh?! Gin-san, you did _what_ with— _mmph!_ ”

"So Oogushi-kun's mayo cannon wants a piece too? Too bad! He missed his chance! What do you want me to do about it, huh? Get me smashed and I might be up for a three-way—"

"Just following orders here, Danna. Remember, the honour of your own bland Megane hangs in the balance."

" _Mmf!_ " Shinpachi glared daggers from under Okita's hand.

"Now, remember the terms, and make your decision wisely. See you then." Okita flipped the phone shut and turned to Shinpachi, staring at him as he continued to struggle away from his hand.

“Relax already, Megane—I was only joking earlier, you know. Unlike that house-squatting criminal you call your boss, _I'm_ a man of the law. Poor Zaki's chastity may be long gone now, but yours is perfectly safe with me.”

Shinpachi finally broke free with a horrified expression and yelled out, "Gin-saaaan, get your ass over here and save me already! Don't leave me with this sadist! I'll be ruined for marriage!"

Okita drew in closer, now standing behind the chair. "Oi, oi, aren't you getting ahead of yourself a bit? You really think I'd do anything perverted?” He remained the picture of innocence as he proceeded to slip his hand under Shinpachi's collar.

Shinpachi twisted away and shivered under Okita's fingers, red-faced. "L-Like hell you're not! You just started doing something perverted, right now!"

As the other turned away from him Okita took the opportunity to attack his exposed neck, sucking bruises into the fragile skin. 'Wo–ow, you get all riled up so easily—it might be fun waiting for Danna to come get you after all. That is, if he decides to..."

"H-He will! A...Ah, Okita-san, w-what are you..."

"What's the problem? I'm just following the second part of the code I mentioned earlier. _'Hate the Yorozuya, but treat Shinpachi nicely.'_ Official regulations.”

“You're misunderstanding it! You're definitely misunderstanding it!”  
_  
_ “But I wonder how many marks I can leave on you before you end up as Shinsengumi property...? At this rate it won't be long, will it?" Okita brushed his lips against Shinpachi's ear and licked behind it, earning a full-body shudder and a high-pitched moan.

"S-Stop that already!"

"Ah, that's your sensitive spot. Look, you've gone all red."

"Okita-san..." Shinpachi shivered and closed his eyes as the licking and sucking continued, digging his face into his shoulder to try and keep quiet.

"You really are fun to play with, huh? Maybe I'll change the terms and put up a ransom — even 300 yen is enough; that cheap old man will never want you back."

"B-Bastard, he seriously wouldn't! He's completely broke! D-Don't you dare!'

Then there was a hand on his thigh, moving through the opening on the side of his hakama—"O-Okita-s-sa—" Shinpachi started, but soon yelped as Okita's hand smoothed across his skin and slipped into his underwear from below.

"Wo–ow, look how hard it is already," Okita commented in his singsong monotone, the material bunching up around Shinpachi's thigh as he rubbed him underneath it; "and so much is coming out." Spreading the precum over his growing erection with a thumb, Shinpachi predictably whimpered and bucked unconsciously into his hand, and Okita smirked. His face was tomato red, eyes squeezed tightly shut—definitely cute.

"What is it Danna would probably be saying now?" Okita breathed on that sensitive spot behind the other's ear again and he shivered, pressing his lips together and turning away— "' _It's a healthy reaction for a boy his age! Treasure your youth before you need Vi*gra to get it up!'_ —Something like that, right?"

"—Ah, e-enough already! Okita-san..." Trying to hide his face, Shinpachi buried into his shoulder again, only for Okita to grab his chin with his free hand and force it towards him. Red eyes locked onto his own, and he blushed and stiffened embarrassingly further, earning another smirk from the sadist.

"Hu–uh...? You _are_ a virgin who's only done it with his right hand, but you're not at your limit quite yet, Megane." Okita's formerly teasing movements changed in an instant and Shinpachi gasped, desperately trying to hide again but unable to turn away. "You want me to stop?" Okita stared down with a blank expression, his tone still flat as ever, and quickened his pace—

" _Ah!_ " Shinpachi cried, arching into his hand.

"See? It feels good. If I stop now, won't you just be left sitting here, _so–o_ close but unable to touch yourself?" Okita moved the hand he had gripping Shinpachi's jaw into the hair at the base of his skull and tugged on it, diving in to suck at his neck again as it pulled up. Another nice, bright, red mark for everyone to see. Was that gorilla sister of his going to be upset? Ah, this was dangerous territory, wasn't it?

That only made things more fun.

"Ah! A-Ah, Okita-sa... N... Ah... Don't...!" Thrashing around under his restraints, Shinpachi had become an incoherent mess, eyes dazed and half-lidded.

"So, Shinpachi-kun, do you want me to stop?" Okita's fingers moved to the sticky spot on the outside of his undergarments and rubbed him through it, the rough friction drawing out a high-pitched whine from his throat. "It doesn't feel good at all, right?"

"Nhhaah... Nn..." Shinpachi panted, expression unfocused.

"Huuuh, what's that? Use your words if you want me to understand."

"Ah..." Eyes falling shut, he dropped his head onto Okita's shoulder, not even trying to hold back his voice anymore. Okita moved in and licked away the drool spilling down the side of his mouth, then grabbed Shinpachi by the hair again to pull him into a kiss. His tongue was hot, almost melting against his own, sloppy and clueless and completely yielding.

Shinpachi moaned senselessly into Okita's mouth as he continued to tease him, soon feeling him tense up and tighten under his hand, whimpering and bucking desperately for more contact; he'd come any second—

And Okita stopped.

Breaking the kiss and pulling away, Okita took his hand out and slowly licked up the stickiness coating it, right in front of Shinpachi's increasingly confused face.

'Listen, Megane, I'm bored now," he stated flatly. "Thanks for entertaining me."

"Wh..." Shinpachi was quickly shifting from confusion to anger, but was just as quickly confused again as he spotted a Justaway in Okita's hand. A Justaway? Well, it was much smaller than a regular Justaway, but it was still a Justaway. A Justaway was a Justaway, after all.

But Okita was looking at him with sadistic hunger and though he knew he was in danger, he could only squirm—with his legs bound to either side of the chair, there was no way to stop the other from reaching through his hakama again, draping himself over Shinpachi's lap with his knee just between his legs for better leverage.

"O-Okita-san, w-what are you doing with that—"

Shutting him up with another kiss, Okita thumbed aside his underwear again, this time stretching the thin material even further— a smirk on his face he watched the other's eyes widen in front of him, he carefully pushed the object inside.

Separating with a wet noise, Shinpachi's look of surprise greeted him as it switched on, soon followed by a whimper of frustration—it was on the lowest setting, of course. It wouldn't nearly be enough.

"So, in the meantime," Okita recontinued, wiping the spit from his mouth with a grin, "you'd better sit tight and wait for that useless bum to come get you.”

The flustered shouting from Shinpachi that followed fell on deaf ears as Okita turned around and casually started walking towards the exit. He glanced at a corner of the room.

"Let's go, Hijikata-san."

" _Whaaat?!_ He was here this whole time?!"  
  


* * *

  
“Really, Sougo? Right in front of my mayo?”

“Are you some kind of voyeur, Hijikata-san?”

“Shut up! Do you know how uncomfortable I was?!”

“And you didn't leave?”

“Once I sit down for lunch I don't get up, bastard! Mealtime is sacred!”

“Isn't that just being stubborn? And it's not 'lunch' when it's something eaten by you, Hijikata-san.”

“Want me to arrest you, you newly-minted sex offender?! The hell was that, huh?! You got a glasses fetish now?”

“Like I said, Hijikata-san, isn't it weirder to watch than to–”

“ _I wasn't looking!”_


	5. (HijiYama) Sleeping With Your Boss While Blackout Drunk or Under Alien Interference Won't Get You a Raise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Hijikata/Yamazaki
> 
>  **Warnings:** Dubcon / **Tags:** Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die
> 
>  **Notes:** This one ended up pretty short. With how tsundere Hijikata is it's pretty hard thinking of how to get this pairing together, hence the sex pollen (but there can never be enough of it anyway, IMO)

“The spores have been produced by an extremely densely-populated Amanto planet that appears to be under the impression that Earth is underpopulated. Believing the human species to be on the brink of extinction, they have manufactured what is now known as the FOD virus. The 'F' stands for 'fuck', 'O' for 'or', and 'D' for 'die'. As termed by the aliens, not us.

“In short, the spores, once inhaled, will kill any adult human being who does not engage in sexual intercourse within thirty minutes. The purpose of this virus is believed to be to force mass reproduction among human beings; however, possibly due to the Amanto species that created it being 100% hermaphroditic, the sex of the participants is not factored. Citizens are recommended to stay indoors at all times, as the spores spread rapidly through the air.”

Masks were being handed out through the Shinsengumi barracks while the TV report on the current Amanto virus situation played.

“Everyone's inside, right? Anyone missing?”

Okita pretended to glance around the room, knowing full well he'd barred the doors before Hijikata could get back from his fortieth cigarette break just ten minutes prior.

(And if anyone else was dumb enough to still be outside, well, that was just too bad.)

“Nope. We're all good.”  
  


* * *

  
_"Ya-ma-zakiii!"_

He didn't realize what was going on until he heard the the call of his name come out of nowhere—not having properly paid attention during the earlier announcement of the virus situation, the cause of the commotion escaped Yamazaki until a sudden burning sensation like a hot iron hit him below the belt and an intense flush spread throughout his entire body. Half-remembered details rushed through his mind and he barely had time to manage a glance behind him and a mental barrage of curses before making a run for it, but only made it a few steps before his jacket was caught from behind and he yelped as hands shoved him to the ground.

“Ah! F-Fukuchou, w-wai-wai-wai- _wait—_!!”

This wouldn't be happening if he'd just slacked off on his grocery run like a _non_ -sensible person today.

He wouldn't be pinned underneath his Vice-Commander with his face in the ground, achingly hard the second his hand made contact with bare flesh, spreading shockwaves through his body that left him trembling. His pants were tugged down to his knees and it was too late to complain — even if he tried to, all that spilled from his throat was a moan as Hijikata pushed into him without warning. The virus had a haze over his mind but the sudden pain still cut through, making him cry out.

"Ow, ow! S-Slow down—"

"Shut up, Yamazaki," Hijikata snapped, as well as he could through his own harsh panting and groaning, "don't care if you wanna die, but I'm not— _ugh_ —" he nearly collapsed there and then, sticky with sweat, as he buried himself to the hilt- "—not dying like... _this_ ," he choked out, "so just hold still and keep your mouth shut."

"U...Understood," Yamazaki could barely get the word out. He was already losing his mind just feeling his Fukuchou inside him like this; if he didn't move already he'd lose it—but Hijikata was just as impatient and was soon slamming into him without restraint, shaky, breathy, low moans falling right by his ear. Yamazaki didn't want to acknowledge how hearing Hijikata's voice in such a state was only making it worse, much less the guilty pleasure that it was Hijikata fucking him in the first place; something he'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't secretly (and _perhaps_ masochistically) fantasized about on more than one occasion.

" _Fu–_ ah! F-Fuku...chou," Hijikata's fingers were digging bruises into his hips— "c, _can't,_ I-I c-cant—" _take any more_ —the heat was overwhelming; every slight touch was enough to send him sobbing in pleasure, too much, _too much—_

Yamazaki came first, crying out unintelligibly, Hijikata groaning into his shoulder as he followed with a deep shudder and a gasp of “ _Fuck”_ , his face buried into his neck.

Relief was barely-lived; they were both still hard, but Yamazaki's muscles were turning into jelly. Unable to stay up anymore, he collapsed, only to be flipped over onto his back by Hijikata, wincing as their bodies reconnected.

"Hah... How long is this going to–damn it _—_ "

Just the sight of Hijikata above him, completely driven by instinct and lust, making a face nobody else must have ever been intimate enough with him to see—it was almost enough to push him over the edge a second time right there and then. _'Fukuchou', 'Hijikata-san', 'Coming!', 'A-Again, coming—', 'Ah, can't—!'_ Yamazaki lost track of all the things he cried out, climax after climax till they were finally spent, until the disease was finally satisfied, and the two of them were left lying together in a sweaty heap.

"You OK?"

_Huh? Who... Was that Hijikata-san just now?_

Yamazaki opened his eyes and turned around with all his strength to see Hijikata looking over at him with uncharacteristic warmth—or something like it, the first to regain something of his composure and now sitting up, though still dishevelled and panting.

“E...Eh?” Yamazaki had to blink twice just to make sure it was really the same person, and coming down from the high had nothing to do with it. Was this really... genuine concern? From Hijikata-san? He felt himself starting to blush again-

"Your ass, I mean."

...Nope. He'd just imagined it. With an exasperated (and exhausted) sigh, Yamazaki promptly rolled over and passed out.

“Oi, get up, Yamazaki. Yamazaki!”


	6. (BanYama) Trench Coats and Sunglasses Are Normal Enough, But Anyone Wearing Both is Unquestionably a Pervert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Bansai/Yamazaki
> 
>  **Warnings:** Noncon, Blood / **Tags:** Body Worship, Rimming, Object Penetration, Voice Kink, Coming Untouched
> 
>  **Notes:** Writing music edgelord dialogue is hard and a little awkward, but I tried. I also couldn't think of any decent way to adapt Ban's speech patterns, so I just decided to ignore it (but still try and make him sound a bit archaic). Noncon smut logic characterization aside, between being stoic, quiet, and pretty unexplored as a character, I can see him having some... interesting kinks, lol.

What kind of expression was that bastard making right now?

With the blindfold over his eyes, it was impossible to tell—there was only that irritating monotone of the Kiheitai assassin's voice, the pressure of a knee leaning against his legs and the hand on his jaw, tilting his face up in its grip. Without his vision, the sensation it left on his skin felt heavy enough to chill the base of his spine.

"Don't move."

"Y-You..."

Still he struggled and trembled under the touches that roamed his body. Confusingly gentle, _delicate_ , almost, so opposed to the sharp strings wound tightly round his wrists, digging in with every accidental movement.

When he'd found himself at the mercy of the same opponent for the second time, Yamazaki had fully expected it to be the last.

When the same blade spared him again in favour of knocking him cold, and then he came to, finding his vision obscured and those strings with their stinging pain restraining him, he quickly gathered he'd be going through some kind of hellish torture before his enemy allowed him to die.

But he was only left in confusion instead by the brushes of lips on his neck, fingertips caressing every inch of his body, that low voice murmuring into his ear—“I told you to stay still. Unless you'd spite your hands just to attempt a blind escape,” one hand trailed up to his nape, pulling his tied hair loose and threading through the strands, stroking, “Shinsengumi Inspector Yamazaki Sagaru.”

"Nh..." Groaning unwillingly, he turned away. Had... had that guy planned this from the start? The way Kawakami said his name made a shiver run up his spine, but he couldn't quite place the reason—it was unnerving in the same way being touched like this was unnerving; it was personal, obsessive and close to  _affectionate_ all at once, but for Yamazaki—for someone as starved as he was for affection, who wasn't nearly special enough for anyone to obsess over, and who nobody had any reason to take personal interest in...

He couldn't understand it; he couldn't feel these actions as anything less than some form of extremely potent sadism, one that seemed coincidentally designed to mock him in the cruelest way possible. He'd fully expected and accepted the possibility of physical torture, and yet somehow, whatever this was was even worse—because something in this was _getting_ to him, no matter how hard he tried not to acknowledge it; he was twisting away from Kawakami's touches as equally as he was unconsciously leaning into them—

The knee positioned against him shifted away from his body, then; he must've sat up—Yamazaki swallowed and braced himself, anxiously, for what would happen next. The sound of a sword unsheathing—soft, but pinpointed thanks to the blindfold heightening his senses—and he tried his hardest to suppress the jolt of panic that ran upside the back of his neck in reaction, his palms going clammy. He could only hope he'd be finished off with dignity now rather than painfully toyed with until his last breath.

The sword's tip pressed down at the edge of his collarbone, catching on the tight fabric of his undershirt. Just barely avoiding the skin, Yamazaki's breath stifled as the blade slowly, deliberately slid across to the other side, popping open the fabric as it gave and exposing his chest to the cool air.

Smooth fingertips spread over the open swath of bare skin, barely grazing past one of his nipples, a thumb trailing down, finding a raised line of flesh.

"It's healed over well, circumstances withstanding," Kawakami's low tone spoke again, from a direction Yamazaki couldn't pinpoint. "But, your body," his thumb traced the ragged scar and Yamazaki recoiled at the touch, swallowing a whimper, "it remembers still—" the strings cut in as he squirmed again and he hissed at the stinging pain—

"Careful, now." Bansai's tongue returned to lick up the spilling blood, wet against his wrists, his fingers still stroking over the scar. Yamazaki bit his shoulder to stop his voice bubbling up again, but another hand pushed into his mouth, forcing out a groan before he could suppress it.

"G-Ghh..."

“Every time you hold back your voice, they'll tighten.”

"I-I don't... I still don't understand—why?" Yamazaki heard himself choke out before he could stop, “W-why are you...”

"At that time, when I heard the composition of your soul, I fell for it. Your song captured my heart." Another slice of the blade split his sash.

 _Fell for? Captured... Your heart? Me?_ Yamazaki's blood ran cold in disbelief. _You're talking about me?_

"Don't... Don't give me that crap. What are you saying," he tried to snap, but his voice was as weak as his wavering conviction. He didn't know what to believe. He didn't know what to think.

He only knew he'd rather be killed than hear a lie like that.

Yamazaki felt his position shift, falling onto his back, freezing up in anticipation as his leggings tugged partway down, hands on his bare thighs turning him halfway onto his side. Razor-thin tightness circled the skin, suspending his legs in place against the other's shoulders, forcing them open, forcing his hips up off the ground. 

"Have you forgotten?" The lilt in those words made him stiffen despite himself, "I said wanted to hear the rest of it."

"N...Nh..." Yamazaki twisted, skin prickling as hot breath dragged over his inner thigh and the other's tongue soon followed, licking inwards along the sensitive skin, then again, tracing down, lower—

"Nn—!" _No_ , he tried to bite out but couldn't form the word. Doing something like this; just how much of a pervert was this guy? "S-Stop it! Ah...! A _–_ Ah..."

His oversensitivity was making his body betray him, falling slack as that tongue worked him open—he wanted to scream in frustration, he wanted to resist, disconnect himself from everything, tell himself it didn't matter what happened to his body so long as it still held its debt to those people who needed him alive. That much was enough, he'd endure any amount of torture as long as it was for them, any kind of shame, no matter how much more he wanted to throw away his pride and beg for it to stop, for Kawakami to slice that scar open again and be done with it. 

But instead he was melting and losing his inhibitions, trembling moans spilling from his mouth; good, it was so good even as his wrists and his back burned in discomfort from the half upside-down position—and it was just when he was losing his head, just when the sensation began to drown out the humiliation enough for him to give in and release that it _did_  stop—

"Not yet."

His legs pulled open wider and something pressed at his ass again, something rough, solid, the shape immediately familiar.

Every nerve in Yamazaki's numb body started awake in panic and he squirmed, eyes snapping open wide under the blindfold as it penetrated him without warning, groaning sharply. He thrashed only to be held down, his legs bent back further, a brush of choppy hair on his skin followed by a kiss to the inside of his thigh like a twisted consolation as the sword's hilt thrust deeper inside.

That was when Yamazaki remembered: the debt his body owed didn't belong to either of them. Not to Kondou-san, not to Hijikata-san, but to—

"Now," Kawakami's voice vibrated in his ear, "let me hear it again."

 _It hurt_. The grooves those strings were carving into his wrists and thighs, oozing blood, the numbness spreading throughout his exhausted body, the shameful noises he made as the sword that pierced his chest once before pierced him again, tearing his insides raw; it burned and ached and his body couldn't take any more. A hand cupped Yamazaki's cheek before his head could drop, thumb swiping the soaked spots under his blindfold, soft kisses pressing along his jaw, his temple; actions more like a mockery of comfort from a lover than of an enemy.

The gentle brushing of those fingers continued into his hair, stroking and stroking as he quivered and thrashed away the last of his strength in frustration—but in his dizzy, lightheaded state, the rage he wanted to feel wouldn't rise. It was the only thing anchoring his consciousness alongside the raw burning between his legs and the inside of his throat as he finally screamed, the melodic-toned praise in his ears melting into unintelligible white noise.

The strings binding his wrists snapped and the thud of his head on the ground jolted Yamazaki back into half-focus long enough for him to feel the hilt sliding out from inside, to dimly note the cool sensation on his abdomen from the evidence of his climax. He could hear panting alongside his own, uneven, barely harsh enough to pick up. A trembling hand was gripping the front of his collar.

 _That freak_ , he realised through his growing dizziness, _did he get off without even touching himself at all—_ but Yamazaki's thoughts cut off again as lips descended onto his own, the blindfold and the remaining strings loosening and falling, freeing him at last.

The uncovered eyes that flashed into split-second focus before his vision blacked out for good were unreadable as ever, even now, their golden colour nearly hidden in the dark.


	7. (YamaZura) When Pokemon Cards Become Uncool On The Playground, Pretending Not to Like Them is Like Being a Secret Agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Katsura/Yamazaki
> 
>  **Tags:** Episode 109 Canon Divergence, Stupid Sexy Katsura 
> 
> **Notes:** AU based on Episode 109. Watching that episode for the first time gave me some shippy vibes, so I ended up adding this chapter later on as a kind of bonus! (Note: this chapter is M-rated, not E-rated)

"Cheers!"

Laughter and sounds of glasses clinking rang out through the hall from the Joui members present, gathered under a banner reading 'Mission Success!' that had been lovingly hung up by that strange Amanto creature a half hour earlier.

"The plan went off without a hitch. Thanks to our efforts, we have struck a decisive blow against the Bakufu!" Katsura announced, brandishing an already-empty cup of sake. "They didn't see our attack coming!" He raised his hand and clapped Yamazaki on the back so hard he almost choked on his drink. "It was all thanks to our new recruit", Katsura declared, proudly smiling, "We couldn't have done it without you."

Yamazaki gave a sheepish laugh, waving his hands dismissively. "Haha, it was nothing, really, Katsura-sa-GUH!"

Another thump on the back. "Hahaha! There's no need to devalue yourself! Who else could have secured all those rolls of toilet paper in time? It was almost as if you were born for buying things in bulk!"

"Er, well..."

"Say no more! Ever since you flawlessly passed the entrance exam a month ago, your help has been indispensable. Isn't that right, Kenji?" Katsura had somehow forgotten who he was talking to and facing someone completely different.

"...It's not 'Kenji'."

Mistaken identity aside, he couldn't help but cringe at Katsura's comment as he remembered how his Shinsengumi ID almost slipped out of his pocket when he tripped and fell after passing the test and being successfully accepted into the Jouishishi.

That sure would've been a disaster, huh?

"It will take them days to remove the TP from the palace! We've shown the Bakufu the true extent of our power!"

"I'm over here."  
  


* * *

  
"Hahahaha! You're such a lightweight, Kenji!" Katsura had one arm slung over Yamazaki's shoulder and another brandishing a bottle of sake, pouring him another drink.

“You're the total lightweight.” After a few drinks the leader of the Jouishishi was already shit-faced drunk, which by now Yamazaki had learned meant that not only was he harder to understand than usual, but far more touchy-feely than usual.

"It's not 'Total Lightweight', it's Ka...tshuraa..." Right on cue, Katsura dropped his head and slumped against him, the bottle slipping out of his grasp as his hands grabbed fistfuls of Yamazaki's kimono to try and keep steady. "Huh? Ss'not 'Katshura', itsh..."

A flash of inspiration hit Yamazaki suddenly— Katsura had praised him earlier, so he'd begun to prove his worth. Maybe now, if he showed concern and helped his false leader out, he'd earn a little extra respect...?

"I think you've had too much already, Katsura-san. Here, let me..."  
  


* * *

  
"Where are you taking me?! I, Katsura Kotarou, never retreat from a battle!"

"Er, I'm carrying you back to your room because you're drunk..."

"Nonsense! I can still fight!"

"You're not fighting anything."

"I fight the Bakufu with every breath I take!"

"Ow, don't kick me! I'm trying to help here! Look, we're almost there! Just let me-"

Yamazaki dropped Katsura onto the futon unceremoniously, only for Katsura's grip on his sleeve to send him tumbling down at the same time, landing on top of the other with a yelp.

Katsura's eyes widened in shock. "What?" He gasped. "So that was it! You were the enemy after all, and your plan was..." Katsura threw his head to the side on the pillow dramatically, "...to ravish my body! I see..."

"What are you saying?!" Yamazaki shot up to his knees. "You really are drunk—"

"Fine! I am unable to resist your advances..." Katsura shot him a defiant glare as he thrust his arms and legs out, assuming the position. "Have your way with me, villain!"

"...Uh."

"But know that I won't break no matter what way in which you defile me...!"

Yamazaki blinked. _Is it just me, or is he getting a little overly-insistent now?_

But he was staring, now, once he realised what he was looking at—Katsura-san lying there flushed with his hair spread out on the pillow, collar askew... Yamazaki hadn't noticed before, but he was pretty to look at for sure, almost enough to be mistaken for a woman—no, what was he thinking? Was it the alcohol from earlier?

Gulping, Yamazaki stumbled awkwardly as he tried to get up. "Ka...Katsura-san, I'd better be—"

A warm hand tugged his wrist back.

"What...? Don't... go." Katsura pulled himself up, the swaying from his drunken movements shrugging his clothing further off his shoulders, revealing more of the heated skin underneath.

Yamazaki almost choked on his breath. "Hu...Huh?"

"Well, aren't you saying I'm drunk? The only way to prove it is to breathalyze me." Katsura drew in close, grabbing Yamazaki by the collar. "Haaaahhh. There! Analyze my breath! It's clean for sure!"

"That's not how it works, and anyway, it's obvious you're drunk! And Ka-Katsura-san,” Yamazaki backed away a little, “you're too... t-too..." _too close!_

"My vehicle was well within the speed limits, officer, I can assure you!”

"Aren't you changing the subject of your roleplaying now?! And why is it always the police?!" _Is he into that?_ _Is he actually into that??_ But Yamazaki's face was burning up as well, and it couldn't have only been the alcohol—

Huh? That was strange. His pants weren't all that tight a couple seconds ag— nope, nope, _nope_ this boner was _not_ happeni— ah. There it was. Well, this was it. He'd have to turn in his Shinsengumi badge at the next opportunity, because apparently he'd officially - or, well, his ****... had officially decided to betray them.

_Hang on, whaaaat?! What the hell?! I-It's him who has this weird police RP kink, not me! Gaaaah, this is bad! Quick, think of something gross! Mayo toothpaste... Mayo toothpaste!_

"Mayo toothpaste!!"

"...Huh?"

"...Uh, that is... Uh... Mayo toothpaste! The secret police code to call for backup when arresting a known terrorist!"

_WHY ARE YOU GOING ALONG WITH IT NOOOW?!?!_

“What?! So you saw through it... The mole I placed on my forehead to disguise myself...! Damn Bakufu dog! Then it can't be helped... I must employ my distraction technique instead while my comrades escape!"

"Katsura-san,” Yamazaki took hold of the other's shoulders in a shaky grasp, “you... should just lie d—"

Katsura's lips pressed against his before he could finish the sentence.

_...Huh?_

Frozen in place, Yamazaki's mind sputtered like a car trying and failing to start.

_...Huuuuh?_

_Oh! Katsura-san must be_ really _drunk, right? Ah. OK, I definitely can't go along with this kind of thing, so I'd better stop him._

But his hands didn't move as the kiss deepened,

_Yes. I'd better stop him. Any time now._

and Katsura's arms pulled him closer and he let them do so, his body responding on its own,

_Any... time n... Huuuuuh?! Why am I returning it? I can't do that. I definitely can't do that. Can't you see who's in front of you right now?! Alcohol or not, unfairly feminine or not, that person is—_

He closed his eyes.

_Oiiii! Closing your eyes doesn't solve the problem, you idioooot!!_

Yamazaki opened them again, coming face-to-face with Katsura again and going back to square one. _Just_ s _top this already! Ah, I can't seriously be..._

If everyone else knew what he was doing right now he'd be forced to commit seppuku on the spot! Unless... Unless even this was part of being undercover, but he couldn't justify it like that when he was letting himself go weak like this, his eyelids soon falling shut again.

The taste of alcohol on the other's tongue wasn't all that burned through him as he finally gave in and let Katsura tug him down, grabbing a fistful of that silky hair with a sigh of relief that pushed against the guilt squeezing in his chest. But really, if he _wasn't_ meant to be making out with the most notorious terrorist on the Shinsengumi's hit-list right now, then said terrorist shouldn't be so ridiculous...ly pretty, or something like that— _gahh, no!_ Could he honestly say that to his superiors without an ounce of shame?!

 _'Oiii, Yamazaki... Want to run that excuse by me one more time?'_ Hijikata-san's glare of cold fury popped into his imagination. _'You're meant to think with the sword on your hip, not the one in your pants. If that's too difficult for you to manage, how about I remind you how to use the former and relieve you of the latter with a nice clean sweep?'_

But any horrifying pain that Mayora could and would inevitably cause to his crotch was unfortunately too distant to imagine when touching Katsura-san felt good right now, and when Yamazaki's hands were already busy discarding his sash and pulling open his collar, revealing a body just as impressive as any captain of the Shinsengumi—

_A demon(ic Vice-Commander) will cut each of your k*ntama into 666 pieces and scatter them to never be found again. Christmas will be ruined, and there'll be no hope of a Season 2!_

But Gintama was animated by BNP, not Gainax, and December was a long way away! So really, there was nothing to worry about—

Katsura's hand caught his sleeve in the process of pulling his clothes off when he felt the weight of a familiar object rustle inside the pocket and froze like a deer in the headlights.

Yamazaki grabbed Katsura's wrist without thinking, stopping him and pulling away, panting with wide eyes.

That was close. Too close... He was about to repeat the same mistake of his Shinsengumi ID falling out of his pocket.

"...Hm? What's the matter, Souji?"

His stomach suddenly twisted as a familiar sentence came back to him. It was one of the regulations printed into his heart that he recited every single morning as a member of the Shinsengumi:

_Kyokuchuu Hatto 21: Personnel conspiring with the enemy shall be punished._

The ID that Yamazaki could feel in his sleeve seemed almost like it was burning a hole through his body at that moment, quickly sobering his mind of any lingering haziness of the alcohol from earlier.

He couldn't do this after all.

"W-We can't!"

Yamazaki pulled away further and sat up, swallowing and looking away from the other's confused face. "Katsura-san, we can't! I-I'm sorry! I can't..." He bowed his head in shame. "I can't keep this up any more! My conscience won't let me! K-Katsura-san, all this time I was really—"

" _Hrrrrghhh!_ "

Yamazaki's words were cut short as Katsura suddenly rolled over and started puking his guts out on the floor.

"Katsura-saaaaan?!"  
  


* * *

_  
Fukuchou will cut my balls off, Fukuchou will cut my balls off, Fukuchou will cut my balls off..._

No, in the end he'd had the restraint to stop himself from doing something he'd regret... But that didn't stop him from replaying everything in his head and burning with guilt, mentally berating himself for his actions.

But it was hard to concentrate on blaming himself with Katsura now snoring into his shoulder, spooning him from behind after tugging him close in his sleep, and he was blushing bright red like Hijikata in Mayorin Land—

_Ah. Fukuchou will cut my balls off._

_But,_ Yamazaki finally decided as he reluctantly snuggled closer into the warm embrace around him and finally closed his eyes, _I guess if I get what's coming to me, I deserve it._


End file.
